The Wiggins and the Myth of Man: Rock and Roll for the Post-Apocalypse

Legend has it that only cockroaches and rock & roll possess the particular blend of resilience and filthiness to survive a nuclear war. The one-man soundsystem that is The Wiggins churns out music that sounds like it already has: imagine huddling in your fallout shelter scanning your emergency band frequencies and coming across the crackling, ghostly remains of surf rock rumbles and crunk-addled murder ballads, decades of dangerous American rebel music all fused together in some twisted, irradiated mess. Nuclear winter or no, listening to the Wiggins offers confirmation that we are living in the end-times. You have two choices: either resign yourself to a terrifying, meaningless death, or put on a pair of shades and start dancing.

After years of EPs, 7″s, limited release CD-Rs and unhinged live shows, the first Wiggins full-length, The Myth of Man, is set to drop any day now on Team Science Records; with decayed, monolithic drum machines pounding beneath a sea of filthy guitars and otherworldly yawls, the LP is at once vintage Wiggins and the strongest, most interesting piece of work the one-man band has produced to date. With a kickass record about to drop, you’d think Jon Read, the Wiggins’ lone Wiggin, would be looking forward to his set this Thursday supporting fellow post-Americana survivor Daughn Gibson. That’s not quite the case.

“I hate performing,” Read relates. “It’s like curse. It IS a curse… When I start playing, the real me, the one you are speaking with now, goes to the 11th level of hell, where I wander the screaming fields of fire and feel the stabs of a thousand swords in my eyes… (Playing live) sucks, but I get a few free drinks and like $45.” On the eve of the biggest release of his career, Read is refreshingly devoid of pretense when talking about his music, alternately self-aggrandizing and self-deprecating in the grand rock and roll pisstake tradition. Despite the irreverence, it becomes clearer every day that the Wiggins are a force to be reckoned with, nuclear apocalypse or no.

29-95: Myth of Man is the first Wiggins long player. Has putting this record together been a big change from recording for shorter releases?

The Wiggins: I never really intended on doing a full length. I have the attention span of a circus monkey… This album has become my Chinese Democracy. I finished it about eleven months ago, but things got held up. I was hoping to have it out when I played in Germany last summer. Though I was surprised by the amount of Eurotrash that knew of me and already had the “Walk” 7″.

29-95: You get lumped in with the Houston noise scene, partially because of your production, partially because of the bills you share, partially because people (myself included) are lazy and like categories. Anyway though, you’re not really a “noise artist” or whatever that means, you’re not messing with laptop noise or a table full of oscillators and guitar pedals – you write songs, like song-songs. Are you ever tempted to release something recorded ultra-clean, no distortion, maybe some acoustic folk-pop or country songs, just to see what it’d be like?

The Wiggins: No, no, noooo. I never even heard of “noise” until I moved to HTX. It’s ok, I guess. But yeah, this label of “noise”, its 100% laziness on your part. Case closed! I don’t think my ears are good enough (for my songs) to be ultra clean…

29-95: Your career has been progressing steadily over the years, though you’re still pretty comfortably underground. Are you interested in blowing up, getting famous? How does a thing like the Wiggins get out into the world at large?

The Wiggins: Oh yeah, I want to be bigger than Elvis. I want to franchise the Wiggins all over the world. For, say, $5k, or 3,500 euro, you’ll get a pair of shitty sun glasses, a pre-programed drum machine, a Wiggins autobiography, and a weekly online course on how to be more like me… I can see it… An Ethiopian Wiggins, a Japanese one. I’m for real… Action figures… Like the Power Rangers of music…

29-95: You’re one of the most adamantly one-man “one-man bands” in Houston, but is there anyone in town you’d like to collaborate with?

The Wiggins: Five words… NEVER HAVING TO SCHEDULE BAND PRACTICE. Or six words, sorry. My music suffers from being solo, but it deserves to.

THE WIGGINS plays Thursday, May 31 at Walter’s, 1120 Naylor Street. Daughn Gibson and Hamamatsu Tom are also on the bill. Tickets are $8.